


tiny cracks of light

by helloearthlings



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Crossover, Fluff, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5854081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m the Doctor,” the man replied with a small, almost self-deprecating grin. “But I quite like the name Merlin. Maybe I’ll steal it. Surely that’s something I can do. After everything I’ve done, name-stealing is a barely noticeable transgression.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	tiny cracks of light

**Author's Note:**

> There is...no excuse for this. Really. There's none. It's also unedited, so I'm sorry if there are any glaring errors. I'm working on the Big One, so this is kind of my fluffy distraction. Hopefully sometime soon I'll start posting chapters for that, but I'm not letting myself publish any of it until I'm finished. Don't want a repeat of the rest of the times I've tried to write a chaptered fic. But anyway - this is driveling fluff, but it still ate up a few hours of a Friday night. So I'd appreciate it if you gave it a try. Thanks for reading!

Arthur coughed up blood onto the snow-covered ditch.

He was dying, that much was for certain – his eyes kept going in and out of focus, the pain echoing throughout his body slowly becoming a dull roar, his skin becoming numb to the snow under his hands and cold breeze of the forest.

How he had gotten here, he could barely remember. There had been – a crash? A car crash? He remembered glass shattering and the sound of a horn. He remembered flying through the air. Had he hit something? Had something hit him? His mind was far past the point of knowing. All he knew that he was too far out of the city and it was far too late at night for anyone to find him in time to save him.

He had accepted it from the moment he realized that there was a hunk of metal sticking out of his side, hissing in pain as his numb hands tried to remove it but could barely grasp it. Death was imminent, and Arthur couldn’t even conjure up the mental processes to relive his best and worst moments.

He vaguely considered that he should be thinking of someone; a face should be appearing to him as he lay dying, a person who had meant the world to him, who should receive that honor – but after a moment’s struggle he came to the horrible realization that there was no one.

Maybe that was why he was accepting death so easily.

When a whirring noise began to filter through air, Arthur barely noticed, too preoccupied with retaining oxygen.

But he did notice, only just, when he heard cursing and stumbling. His heart seized up; another person? He had lost all hope of ever seeing another human being. He knew that the pain had reached too far, that there was no chance for revival, but if this really was a person and he wasn’t just imagining things –

At least he wouldn’t die completely alone.

“Oh, shit,” a voice said, and Arthur hissed out a long breath as someone skidded to a halt next to Arthur’s fallen form. Arthur could barely keep his eyes open; his out of focus vision could see only a dark figure kneeling next to Arthur, but there was something – some kind of light surrounding him. It was golden and ethereal and Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, overcome with another bout of pain.

“Here, here, I can help, I still have enough regeneration energy…” Arthur barely understood the words, but suddenly he felt a hand on his stomach, and he choked in agony.

And then there was a hot, yet not unpleasant, feeling expanding throughout his entire body, and the pain evaporated. Arthur was left gasping for air that he miraculously could heave in without constriction. He didn’t trust himself to sit but to his immense surprise, he could feel his appendages once more. He gingerly moved one of his arms toward his stomach, where part of the Range Rover had embedded itself in Arthur’s skin. But there was nothing there, and as Arthur pressed harder, he discovered there wasn’t even a wound.

“Are you alright?” The voice said again, and Arthur remembered with a jolt that someone was there. Someone had done this. Someone had s _aved_ him.

“What – what did you do?” Arthur managed to rasp, and was overcome with a coughing fit. He finally choked out “Was that – magic?”

The voice chuckled. “Excellent guess, but the answer is a bit more complicated than that. I doubt you’re in any state for me to explain such a concept at the moment.”

Arthur forced himself to laugh, and was surprised when it didn’t hurt. “Whatever, Merlin the Magician.”

“Merlin,” the voice said thoughtfully. “I quite like that. What’s your name?”

“I’m Arthur,” he answered. “Arthur Pendragon.”

“Well, no wonder you named me Merlin,” the voice sounded delighted. “But on to business – I’m assuming you don’t want to continue lying in a ditch until you die of frostbite.”

“No, not as such,” Arthur replied, bemused by the voice’s – well, the man’s – matter of fact words and amused tone. Did he do this every day? Well, if magic was involved, the answer could clearly have been outside Arthur’s expectations.

“Then let’s get you onto the TARDIS. Hopefully you don’t pull something in shock. I’ve been told it’s quite impressive to see the first time. Takes a lot out of a person. But it’s really our only option at this point, don’t you agree?”

“Sure,” Arthur said, not knowing what the man meant in the slightest but being fully aware that he couldn’t stay here. He finally managed to force his eyes open, and even though they had difficulties focusing, they eventually were able to zero in on a face.

The man peering down at Arthur electric blue eyes and messy dark hair, with pale skin and high cheekbones – but none of these things struck Arthur half as much as the golden glow that seemed to surround him, soft and powerful all at once, and Arthur knew immediately that it was this that had saved his life.

“Hey,” the man said, eyes becoming sharper as they regarded Arthur. “You’re opening your eyes. That’s good, right? I’m not a doctor. Well, I’m the Doctor. But they’re very different things, yes? Why are you looking at me like that? Is it the regeneration energy? Or is my face really that bad? I haven’t had the chance to see it yet.”

“What – what are you –” Arthur slurred, trying to use his hands as leverage to sit up, but the man caught him before he fell back down again, and hoisted his body up gently. Arthur let him, not trusting his own functionality at this point.

When Arthur was on his feet, the man looped one arm around his back and started leading him away from the rubble of the accident. Arthur leaned on his shoulder to try and gain some semblance of balance. He had no idea where they were going, and at this point, he didn’t care. Anyone who had saved his life with weird golden energy could have a free pass on the whole ‘trust’ issue.

Maybe he was still on the snowy ground, gasping for breath, and this was an elaborately constructed dream.

“Here,” the man said, seconds or maybe hours later, and Arthur forced his eyes open once again to see a bright blue telephone box standing in front of him. He tried to side-eye the man in disbelief, but his eyes weren’t quite equipped for that kind of sarcasm yet.

“What –” Arthur began before the man cut him off.

“It’s called the TARDIS. That stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. Yes, it’s a spaceship. It’s also a time machine. And it’s bigger on the inside. Try not to be too shocked, okay? I don’t know if your body can take it at this point.”

And with that, he pushed the door open. Arthur, too exhausted and tortured to argue, stumbled inside, and adrenaline promptly rushed through his veins.

“Shit,” he gasped, open-mouthed, and his eyes that had been so unwilling to cooperate suddenly couldn’t blink, he was taking so much in. Lights danced from every corner of the sprawling room – if it could be called a room. ‘Bigger on the inside’ didn’t cover it – it looked like something straight out of Star Trek, with the sleek metal interior and control panel, the blinking metallic lights. Arthur reached backward to grasp at the man, who was standing a step behind him, and stumbled backward. The man caught his hand.

“Who are you?” Arthur turned back to him, wide-eyed. Now that he could actually take in the man’s appearance, he noticed with a jolt that the man was smiling unreservedly in wonderment at Arthur’s reaction.

“I’m the Doctor,” the man replied with a small, almost self-deprecating grin. “But I quite like the name Merlin. Maybe I’ll steal it. Surely that’s something I can do. After everything I’ve done, name-stealing is a barely noticeable transgression.”

“Sure,” Arthur said, not understanding anything about this stranger, but somehow, that was okay. If nothing else, Arthur was alive. The man – the Doctor, Merlin, whatever he wanted to be called – was clearly magical. Or an alien. Or any number of things that existed only in fiction.

“I’m sure I can find a bed somewhere in here, to give you time to recover,” the man gestured toward what appeared to be a hallway, but it was far past the insane amount of sparkling sci-fi objects, making it all but invisible to Arthur until now. “I can drop you off wherever you like. I’m sure someone is worried about you.”

There was his father, Arthur considered, but worry was not an emotion that crossed Uther Pendragon’s path with any regularity. If he had perished on the side of that road, Uther surely would be more concerned with the publicity surrounding his death than the actual loss of his son. His half-sister was estranged; it had been nearly five years since Arthur had received even a phone call from her. There were co-workers, acquaintances –

No one that he thought of in his last moments.

“No,” Arthur said quietly. “There’s no one who – cares. I’m – I’m not –”

“Hey,” the man caught Arthur’s chin with outstretched fingers, and forced Arthur to look into his eyes. Once again, Arthur was struck by the sheer electricity in his gaze. “Don’t talk like that. Don’t you dare. Even if you can’t think of a single name, there is _someone_ who cares. Probably a whole lot of someones. Me, for one.  You matter, Arthur Pendragon. Everyone does. I’ll – how about I prove it to you?”

“How?”

“I’ll take you on a fantastic adventure,” the man said with a beaming grin. “Later, though. After you feel more alive. Come on, I’ll find a place for you to rest.”

“Thank you…” Arthur trailed off, still not knowing what to call the man, whose grin only increased as Arthur gazed over at him expectantly.

“Why don’t you call me Merlin?” He said with a twinkle in his eye. “We’ll see if it sticks. I don’t want to go through the hassle of using it and figuring out that it sounds like rubbish. Science always started with a little experimentation. Are you coming?”

Merlin led Arthur past the metallic lights and into something new.

* * *

“So, tell me, Merlin, how does a lanky guy in his twenties end up with a _time machine_?”

“Because I’m not a lanky guy in his twenties,” Merlin said with a roll of his eyes as he fiddled with the buttons on the counsel, pulling levers and creating that strange whirring noise that Arthur had heard in the forest. He didn’t think he would ever be able to hear that noise and think of anything other than that snow-covered ditch. “I’m a Time Lord.”

“And what does that mean?” Arthur asked as he leaned against a railing, watching Merlin’s methodical work with the triggers. He was flying a spaceship. Arthur was watching a man fly a spaceship.

“It means that I’m a space alien who has been alive for centuries,” Merlin turned to Arthur with a somewhat sheepish grin. In his day and half on board this strange telephone box most of which had been spent sleeping, Arthur had never seen Merlin wear anything but a smile. “I could go into more details, but that really about covers it. I don’t have magical powers, if that’s your next question. I had just regenerated when I stumbled upon you, so I still had energy left from that to gift you.”

“Regenerated?”

“Got a new face,” Merlin circled his features vaguely with his hand. “It’s what happens whenever I’m about to die. When I’m about to run out of breath, I burst into golden light and I get a new face.  And a new personality. So I’m not entirely sure who I am yet. You and I can figure that out together.”

Arthur had no idea how to respond to anything sci-fi related, so he said, almost unintentionally, “You’re kind.”

“Well, that’s something, isn’t it?” Merlin’s smile went soft around the edges.

“And also a bit mad, though maybe that just comes with being a space alien,” Arthur chuckled, shaking his head as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of the jeans Merlin had given him, his own pair being soaked in his own blood. Arthur wasn’t sure how Merlin had been dressed before, but now he was wearing a beat-up brown jacket with a red-t-shirt underneath and combat boots to match. He didn’t look like an alien; he looked like the kind of guy Arthur could meet at the pub.

“Well, that’s to be expected,” Merlin jerked his head toward the door. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“I promised you an adventure, didn’t I?” Merlin walked backward toward the door, beckoning Arthur to follow. Not seeing where he was going, he ended up tripping over the railing and flailing slightly before regaining his balance.

“You’re quite clumsy, too,” Arthur informed him as he followed, somehow able to take all of this in his stride. To his satisfaction, Merlin’s cheeks were stained pink.

“Just a fluke,” Merlin shook his head, though Arthur could see the self-deprecation in Merlin’s expression. “Are you coming along or what? This is entirely for your benefit, you know. I don’t think I’m an adventure kind of person. Much rather sit inside with a book, me.”

“Liar,” Arthur said immediately, and Merlin sighed dramatically.

“I knew it the moment I said it. I just had to make sure. I’ve always loved adventure, no matter who I’ve been. But seeing as how _someone_ gave me a new name, I thought I’d have to make sure nothing else had changed irrevocably.”

“You’re sarcastic,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “And a bit of a dramatist.”

“All the best people are!” Merlin said with a wide grin. “Now come with me – have you ever seen a Arcadian princess ascend to her throne?”

* * *

As it turned out, Arthur did not end up seeing a Arcadian princess ascend to her throne, as the Arcadian princess had turned out to be an imposter assassin tasked with murdering the king and queen. Somehow, Merlin had deduced this before the red-scaled woman had even set her eyes on the crown, and had dragged Arthur to the front of the alien-infested banquet hall to deliver an impassioned speech to reveal her true nature, after which they were promptly shot at, and Arthur had to tackle Merlin to the ground to avoid a stray bullet.

And then they were at the Battle of Waterloo, which was apparently not only a battle between the French and English, but also a third, unseen alien species that picked off members of both sides of the human war one by one until Merlin found a way to reveal their true faces by the use of nothing more than a green glowing screwdriver.

After that it was a space station more than a thousand years in the future, battling corrupt human beings who were taking advantage of what they had dubbed as a slave race, which really pissed Merlin off, and for the first time, Arthur could see why the people they had come across were afraid of the Doctor.

But he wasn’t the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, not to Arthur. He was Merlin, who was snarky and sarcastic and incapable of doing anything he was told, who took too much sugar in his tea and let his legs tangle with Arthur’s as they sat in the counsel room, shoving gently at him, teasing him about whatever Arthur had done most recently that was up for scrutiny.

It was one of these times, five weeks after they had met, though it felt like at least five years, when Merlin said, quietly, nudging Arthur with his toe. “I don’t pretend to know much of human affairs, but I’m relatively certain that after that car crash, you would be presumed dead.”

“Probably,” Arthur agreed neutrally, looking down at the cup of tea in his hands. He had been trying not to think about London and his life there, about his father’s disapproving looks and lonely nights spent in his office, and most especially about the complete unreality that his life had become.

“You know that this is a time machine and I can get you back to that very moment if you wanted to,” Merlin said, soft but insistent. “I won’t begrudge you for wanting to go.”

“Do you want me to?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask, his heart clenching in anticipation for the answer.

Merlin’s eyes widened fractionally. “Of course not! You’re – I mean, this is has been –” He reached forward to grab Arthur’s hand. He did that a lot, mainly when they were running for their life. Arthur had never yearned to run for his life until Merlin had shown up, with his ridiculous smile and snarky commentary, fingers tangling around Arthur’s whenever something remotely dangerous started to happen. “I want you to stay. But I understand if you have to go.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Arthur shook his head as he squeezed Merlin’s fingers. “Let them think I’m dead. When I – when I was dying, before you showed up – I kept thinking about how there was no one that I wanted there in my last moments. No one to think about as I lay dying. But now I know that if I was going to die – someone would be there.”

Arthur’s words had chased the ever-present smile off of Merlin’s face, and his voice had lost its snarky edge long ago. He leaned in to press his forehead against Arthur’s. “Of course I’d be there. Arthur…the universe is vast and magnificent and ever-expanding. But don’t ever doubt that, to me, you are anything less than the most important person in it.”

Arthur hoped his hands weren’t shaking. “But you’re the Doctor. You barely know me, really. What’s a few weeks compared to a thousand years?”

“Everything,” Merlin said without blinking. “And I didn’t say you were the most important person to the Doctor. I said you were the most important person to _me_. You named me Merlin, remember? I’m not likely to ever forget you, no matter if you leave me tomorrow or if you’re here for the rest of your life.” His eyes narrowed as he regarded Arthur. “That comment, by the way, in no way obligates you to stay here for the rest of your life.”

“But I can if I want to?” Arthur asked, a small smile playing at his lips, knowing the answer.

“Of course.”

* * *

A few weeks turned into something much, much more than that – Arthur didn’t even know how long it had been, was barely aware of time as anything more than a construct. He had been with Merlin long enough that he knew he could never leave, that he would spend the rest of his life aching for adventure and adrenaline, for the noise the TARDIS made when it landed, for the way Merlin’s fingers twined around Arthur’s wrist, for the sheer look of wonder in his eyes whenever Arthur called him Merlin.

And Arthur wasn’t the only one. No matter where they went in the universe, if Merlin was recognized, they didn’t call him the Doctor anymore. The name Merlin no longer exclusively belonged to Arthur – it was like a message had trickled through time and space to all sentient beings. The Doctor had a new name for his new companion. That was how the Dalek on Kantra had put it.

The Daleks – Arthur had never seen Merlin afraid until they stumbled across a nest of them on the abandoned planet. Until that point, he had thought Merlin incapable of fear. But when Arthur had been unconscious on the floor, his only groggy memory was of Merlin spitting “If you touch him again, it will be the last mistake you will ever make” and the Dalek replying “Changing your name does not change who you are” and then, later, a hand carding through his hair, soft words whispered like a prayer.

Arthur pointedly didn’t ask about it.

Until one quiet day, sitting side by side with their feet dangling out the TARDIS doors, gazing out at a meteor shower, Arthur finally plucked up the courage to say “Why is everyone calling you Merlin now?”

Merlin didn’t turn to him, instead focusing on the blaze in front of them, considering Arthur’s question with a curious tilt of his head.

“Because someone heard you call me that. You know how trends are. There’s that awful one from the twenty first century, with the hashtags. I was getting so irritated by it that I looked up when it ends – it’s not until 2075. That’s just pathetic, really.”

“You’re diverting,” Arthur said, because he always knew with Merlin – except for when he didn’t.

Merlin hummed in assent and took a moment before answering seriously. “Because – because this regeneration is different. _You_ made me different. You gave me a name, and it changed me, and the universe has taken notice.”

“But you said that all of your regenerations differ from the previous,” Arthur pointed out, not sure at what Merlin was getting at. “I mean, maybe you aren’t always such a snarky piece of shit, but…”

They both laughed, but it was a hollow sound, knowing they were about to broach on unfamiliar territory. The pair had the uncanny ability to make eye contact and come up with a battle plan; their verbal communication varied from witty banter to a string of affectionate insults. Their deepest feelings were something often pushed aside in favor of other, less uncomfortable, topics.

“I can’t explain it,” Merlin finally sighed. “I mean, I’m still the Doctor. I’ll never not be the Doctor. But right here, right now – this is the only time I’ll be Merlin. Not just with this face, but – with you. When – when you’re gone, or when I’m gone, whichever comes first, I’ll be the Doctor again.”

“But – as long as I’m here – you’ll always be Merlin?” Arthur stared at his hands, trying to ignore the way his voice cracked in vulnerability. His Merlin was different from the Doctor. He didn’t know how, but he did. Sometimes, when Merlin was staring into space, or even at another person, alien, creature, he would get an unnamable look in his eyes and Arthur would know that he wasn’t Merlin anymore. But then he would turn back to Arthur and there he would be again, with dancing electricity in his eyes and a smile reserved just for Arthur.

Merlin’s fingers hooked under Arthur’s chin, forcing him to turn to look into those familiar eyes, vulnerable and unyielding all at once. “Merlin is yours, Arthur. Forever. And even when I’m not Merlin anymore, I will always remember when I was. I will always remember you. You’re the first face this face saw. Seared onto my hearts until time itself is gone.”

“Good,” Arthur said, because it was how he felt. Every time Merlin mentioned his centuries of life, Arthur had an uncomfortable boiling in his stomach, knowing how impermanent he was, how his life was a flicker compared to Merlin’s. But to know that he would be remembered –

“If you die first, I’ll probably have to off myself,” Merlin’s voice was back to familiar self-deprecation. “I don’t think I could bear having this face, these feelings, without you here.”

“Don’t do that,” Arthur said quietly, but there was a tiny part of him that agreed with him. Merlin had said it himself; Merlin was Arthur’s. And Arthur knew, unquestionably, that he was Merlin’s. If he was still alive when Merlin regenerated next, he didn’t know how he would deal with not having Merlin’s light up eyes, his snarky commentary, his gentle teasing, his hand wrapped around Arthur’s own.

 “Why not? I’ve got plenty of regenerations left.” Without looking at Arthur, Merlin shrugged an arm around his shoulder, and Arthur leaned into the touch. “I can afford to waste one.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m always stupid, according to you.”

“Well then, why did you antagonize the entire English royal family?”

“…Because I could?”

“Exactly.”

For some inexplicable reason in Arthur’s brain, he chose that moment to lean over and press his lips against Merlin’s. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about doing it before, but there was always something that stopped him. The timing was wrong, there was still a monster to slay, the Daleks were coming for them, the universe was about to end, Arthur didn’t even know if Merlin experienced attraction, romantic or sexual, and part of him didn’t want to find out.

But Arthur had kissed him, and he couldn’t back out now. His only option was to keep kissing Merlin and hope for the best. Merlin’s lips were dry and unresponsive, but after a few moments, a hand went up to rest at the back of Arthur’s neck, and Merlin’s lips slowly started to move against Arthur’s. It was sweet and chaste, but long, longer than Arthur could say. Neither of them wanted to stop, but it never progressed further than Arthur tangling one of his hands in Merlin’s scruffy hair. Finally, minutes, hours, maybe days later, they broke apart.

Merlin stared at Arthur, not in shock or derision or in wonderment or any of the emotions that Arthur was looking for. He just stared as if he had never seen a creature quite like Arthur in his life.

Arthur waited for a response.

“Let’s go to the Chandelier Ballroom on Anathema,” Merlin said, suddenly businesslike and standing up quickly. Arthur scrambled to follow, confused by the non sequitur.

Merlin obviously noted the confused panic on Arthur’s face, because he immediately followed up with “I’ve never taken you dancing before. I’ve never taken anyone dancing, actually. In my one thousand one hundred and sixty four years alive, I don’t think I’ve ever taken anyone on a proper date. Though if you consider running for your life a date, then I’ve probably been on more than anyone else in the universe. I’m not entirely sure if that constitutes, however. Maybe if –”

Arthur cut him off as he began pulling the levers of the TARDIS, the whirring noise of travel beginning once more. “Are you sure about this?”

“Honestly, Arthur, don’t doubt yourself so much,” Merlin sent him a familiar grin, but it faltered slightly with nerves as he spoke again. “I – I love you. Quite a lot, actually. So if you’ll have me, I’d like to take you dancing.”

“I bet you’re rubbish at dancing,” Arthur said faintly, not trusting himself to say anything else, his heart seizing up and hands shaking.

“Probably,” Merlin agreed with a self-deprecating shake of his head. “But knowing me, I’ll choose the day that there is a large scale emergency in which we will have to save the planet and run for our lives, not necessarily in that order. But hey, if this ends up being unspeakably awkward, you’ll have an easy out.”

“I won’t need one,” Arthur said immediately, and hesitated before adding, “I love you, too.”

Merlin’s smile was beaming and brilliant as he flipped the final lever.

* * *

 

As it turned out, there was a feral tiger loose at the Chandelier Ballroom. But Arthur found that he didn’t really mind, because this time, when Merlin laced his fingers with Arthur’s as they sprinted away, it felt like everything he ever needed.


End file.
